Deer in the Headlights
by paganpunk2
Summary: A bump in the night leaves Dex dazed and trying to walk back to base.  Established Joe/Dex, implied slash OCs, but nothing explicit.  Complete.
1. Chapter 1

I don't know how many of you are here from the Sky Captain fandom versus those who had author alerts on me and are waiting for updates to either Firefly or Starfox fics, but I'm glad you're giving this story a go, regardless of how you got to it. For those of you visiting from other fandoms, I have some new Starfox stuff I'll be posting shortly, and for Firefly fans, I cross my heart that Dear Ma will be updated soon. To those of you who are dedicated Sky Captain fans and were wondering about the new face, while this is the first story I've posted in the fandom it is not the first I've written in it, and I have several others needing only final edits. It seems to me like this fandom has been painfully quiet of late, which is a shame because there have been some great stories written for it in the past and posted both here on and on the live journal slash community. With that in mind, here's a little jolt that with any luck will get things jumping a bit.

In any and all cases, reviews are always wonderful. Thanks for reading!  
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"Can you believe how fast they've been putting this place back together?" Skip asked, tipping his chair back and glancing out the window of the guard house. "It's been what, two months now? And it's practically all done. That's even counting in the three weeks it took to start getting supplies in here for rebuilding. It's crazy."

"Yeah, I don't envy all them other guys," Tommy replied as a battered deck of cards flew back and forth between his hands in a complicated shuffle. "I heard they've even got the pilots working construction."

"I'll bet they're real happy about that," Homer snorted. "Hey, are you gonna deal those, or just sit there and fondle them?"

"Relax, Homer. We've got all night to play." Tommy rolled his eyes as he began to deal. "Five card draw, sevens wild."

"What're you in such a rush about?" Skip threw in, picking up his cards as he offered a verbal jab towards the oldest member of that night's shift. "It's not like you're winning or anything. Give me two," he finished, placing a pair of cards facedown on the table beside him.

"I'm not the one with the ants in my pants," Homer countered. "You've been staring out that window since we got here. Three." He glanced at the cards he was given and grimaced. "You and the kid we let out earlier, you're both in some hell of a hurry to get away from here."

"Kid?" Skip wrinkled his nose, thinking back. "Only person to leave the base since we got here's been Dex."

"Right. The kid. Raise you two."

"I'll see the opener and your raise, plus another buck. And Dex isn't a kid. To hear everyone else talk, he's a fricking genius or something."

"Call," Tommy interjected, throwing his chips in the middle with the others. He frowned down at the three of a kind in his hand. It was low, but it might do the trick. "How'd a guy that young get to be head engineer, anyway?"

"Probably a pervert, just like his boss. I'm out."

"Up another dollar," Skip said, frowning towards the older man. "And what do you mean, perverted? I never got that sense off of him, or off of the boss. Not that I ever see them except when they're rolling through the gate, but still. Besides, like I said, he's supposed to be super smart."

"Hmm…yeah, alright, I'll see you and call. You're crazy, Homer. Dex is just a nice guy." Tommy laid his cards face-up, heard Skip's groan of defeat, and pulled the pot towards himself with a grin.

"I broke down on the road once after my shift, right?" Skip continued speaking as chips clicked into stacks on the other side of the table. "He comes along, pulls over and asks if I need any help. I wasn't gonna say no, it was three in the morning. Now, I figure myself to be a pretty good hand with a car – my pop has a garage, you know – but I couldn't figure for the life of me what was wrong with that old jalopy. He looks under the hood for all of two minutes, messes around a bit, and I'll be damned if that car didn't start up with a purr. Haven't had a problem with her since. It's your deal, by the way," he finished, passing the cards to Homer.

"All I know is that Mr. High-and-Mighty Sky Captain figures he can just sleep with whoever he wants any time he wants," the oldest guard said as he shuffled clumsily, nearly dropping the deck several times. "Me, I call that perversion. And as close as them two seem to be, could be maybe some of that perversion's rubbed off."

Skip laughed from where he was once again watching out the window. "All famous people do that. Don't you read the papers?"

"That's not being perverted, that's taking a good thing when you've got it," Tommy agreed. "And who can blame him? Some of them women he's been with, oh man, I tell you what…Maybe you're just losing your juices, Homer."

"Like hell. I'm just saying, maybe it ain't only girls he's jumping between. Sevens wild again, ace to open. You can't never tell with those foreign types."

"He's a Brit, Homer. It's not like he came out of darkest Africa. Sides, you ever actually seen him come home with a guy in the car next to him?"

"Just the kid. He's come back with him plenty of times, both looking about happy as clams, too." He turned to snap at Skip, who had yet to pick up his hand. "Would you quit looking out there and play the game? I'm dying of old age here."

"Sorry. Just got a funny feeling tonight, I guess. Thought I heard something up the road a bit ago." He examined his cards. "I'll open."

"Thank God," Homer breathed as Tommy called and play came around to him. "I'll raise two. I'm telling you, those two act awful funny together sometimes. Like they've got some sort of secret."

"Jeez, can't two guys be friends in your world? Call. Besides, who cares who sleeps with who? I mean, so long as the job gets done."

"You're sounding awful Red there, Tommy. Kinda scary, thought of having a Red watching my back on night duty." Homer narrowed his eyes at the younger man.

"Would you back off already?" Skip barked, throwing his cards down. "I'm out. And Tommy's right - who cares who anyone else is sleeping with? It's none of our business."

"Hey, now, boys, I'm just saying, the kid's a little creepy. He freaks me out." He looked at them, his eyes wide in mock innocence. "I'm just trying to warn you fellows that you maybe ought to, you know, be careful around him. You never know. I mean yeah, he's American enough sounding, but it's not so hard for those foreigners to twist your head around so you think up's down, if that what they want. You two are fine guys, I figure you should watch your back."

Skip stared at him stonily. "He fixed my car, in the middle of the night, and didn't ask for so much as a dime. We had a pretty pleasant conversation, too, while he was at it. He always remembers my name and asks how I am when he sees me on duty. So I'm not really interested in hearing you talk shit like that about him." He stood up, his chair screeching slightly as he pushed it back from the table. "I'm gonna take a look outside. See you two in a few." Shrugging on his jacket, he stepped outside, muttering under his breath.

"I tell you, you try to be a nice guy, maybe warn somebody so they don't get sucked into something dirty, and that's the thanks you get," Homer complained. "He probably voted to give the country to FDR, too, I'll bet. Him and that creepy kid both."

"Homer?" Tommy asked from where he sat examining his fingernails.

"What?"

"Shut the hell up."


	2. Chapter 2

Skip came back inside a few minutes later, letting the door slam behind him as he headed for the coffee pot. His jacket was wet from the rain that had been falling all evening, and he shot a scowl towards where Homer still sat at the table, erecting a shaky looking house of cards.

"How's the weather?" Tommy asked meditatively. He had moved to lean against the wall so he could watch the road without seeing his co-worker's sad attempts at architecture reflected in the glass, and asked the question without looking around.

"Cloudy. No stars. Driving home's going to be just dandy if it keeps raining like it is."

"Mmm." They fell silent again, the two younger guards studying the approach to the bridge that separated the base from the mainland and trying to ignore the heavy breathing of the man behind them. Had it just been them, the quiet would have been companionable; with Homer's low curses as the cards folded over and over again in the background, it was tense.

"Don't you guys want to keep playing?" the older man asked finally, a slight begging tone in his voice.

"Not in the mood," Skip muttered. Outside, a sliver of moon peeked out of the clouds, casting just enough light on the wet blacktop for him to realize that something was on the road. "Did you see that?" he asked Tommy, straightening up.

"I thought I saw something, but there's no lights. Can't be a car, unless they're running dark."

"Pretty stupid in this weather." He grabbed a rifle down off of the rack by the door. "Or pretty smart, depending on why they're driving blind."

"I'm with you," Tommy nodded, snagging a handheld spotlight from under the counter and following Skip back outside. The falling water sank through his uniform, reminding him too late that he hadn't put his jacket on. "Shit, this is a cold rain."

"Yeah. Shine that light up the road, would you?"

They searched fruitlessly for a few moments before the sound of footsteps became clear. "Someone's walking up," Tommy said unnecessarily.

"Hey, who goes there?" Skip hollered into the dark. The footsteps stopped.

"Is that you, Skip?" a muffled but vaguely familiar voice called back, a note of pain in it's tone.

"Uh…yeah." Exchanging a glance with the other guard, he shrugged. "Who're you?"

"It's Dex."

"Oh. Hey." His eyebrows knit together suddenly. "Didn't you leave here in a car earlier? Why are you walking back?"

"It's kind of a long story. Look, I'm just trying to get back down to the base."

"Step into the flashlight beam before you come any closer." He jerked his head towards the spot the voice had come from, and Tommy aimed the light there. A pair of boots became visible, followed by the standard issue khaki uniform that were all either man had ever seen the engineer dressed in. "You sound kind of funny, you know. Just making sure you are who you say."

"I know. Just doing your jobs. It's fine, guys, really." He raised one hand to block the direct light that was stabbing into his eyes.

"Could you put your hand down? I can't see your face."

"Sorry." He lowered his arm slowly, trying not to hiss as the brightness filled his already pounding head with needles. "Ow."

"Holy cow, Dex, are you okay? Tommy, turn that light off, or away or something."

"I'll live. It looks worse than it is, I think," he called back as he tried to stay on his feet. The world was unstable, the lights of the base beyond the guard post refusing to stay in one place for more than a second. "Can I come forward now?" he asked before taking any further steps. _The last thing I need tonight is to get shot, on top of everything else._

"Sure. I mean, hell, you're the boss." The two guards waited as he walked the rest of the way to the glow that surrounded the gatehouse, both of their eyes widening as he came into full view. "Oh, wow, what happened to you?" Skip asked, moving to open the door for the dripping engineer. "You look like you went three rounds with Joe Louis."

"It was more like one round with a deer," Dex replied as he stumbled forward. "Tommy Johansen, right?" he asked as he passed by the flashlight wielder.

"Right."

"Heard through the grapevine you just became an uncle. Congratulations."

"Hey, thanks!" _Homer's a dumbass_. _This guy's all right, _he decided as he followed Skip and their guest into the warm guardhouse. "Get you some coffee?"

"Sounds good to me," Dex replied, not certain he'd be able to stomach it with the way his head was spinning but eager to at least wrap his hands around something warm. "Thanks, Skip," he added as he slumped into the chair that the guard pulled out for him. "Sorry," he addressed the fourth man in the room. "I don't think I caught your name."

"Homer Gates," the older man said stiffly, eyeing the newcomer's damaged features. "What the hell happened to your face, kid?"

Despite the agony the action ignited, Dex's mouth automatically pulled a terse smile at the youthful moniker that he hated with a passion. It was one thing for Joe to refer to him as a 'good boy' all the time – that was a term of endearment, after all, a nickname given to him by a man not exactly known for his creativity – but to be addressed like a child by an oaf who hadn't even bothered to get out of his seat while his comrades had been doing their jobs was something else all together. "Like I told the others outside," he replied as best he could with both his lips split and bleeding, "I had a run-in with Mother Nature."

"What, were you driving drunk or something? Roads ain't that bad."

"I hit a deer," he answered tightly, his already frazzled nerves wearing thinner still the longer he talked to this man. Having answered that incredibly rude presumption, he turned his attention back to the other two. "I won't interrupt you for long, I know you're working. I just want to dry off some before I finish walking back."

"Are you kidding? You can't walk back like that. You'll never make it," Skip exclaimed, straightening up from where he'd been rustling around under the counter for the first-aid kit someone had told him once was supposed to be there. "Here, a wet towel's about the best we've got," he gave up finally, tossing the engineer the rag they'd been using to wipe condensation off of the insides of the windows. "Maybe you can get some of the blood off, at least."

"…Does it look that bad?" Dex asked tentatively, dabbing here and there at his face. "Ow! Guess that's broken. No wonder I sound ridiculous," he muttered when he brushed at his nose. "Stupid thing came right through the windshield. It didn't hurt this much outside. I guess the cold must have numbed it some. Hey, thanks, Tommy," he said as he stopped exploring his injuries to take the cup that was being offered to him. He sipped gingerly, wincing as the liquid stung the open wounds in his mouth but grateful for the heat. "You don't have a mirror laying around, do you?"

"Nah. Try the windows. They reflect pretty good on nights like this, if you wipe them off. Homer, aren't we supposed to have a first aid kit around here somewhere? Or a blanket, or something?"

"Hell if I know," the older guard spat back, watching from the corner of his eyes as Dex stood uncertainly and moved towards the window. "Your turn to mop the floor tonight, Skip," he added, seeing the blood that had dripped onto the concrete where their visitor had been sitting.

"Shut up, Homer. Dex, you all right over there?" he asked, seeing him waver a bit and grab the window frame for support.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He peered at his reflection as it rippled in the rainwater on the glass. "Oh, man, Joe's going to kill me when he sees this," he groaned. _So much for this shirt,_ he thought as he noted how the cascade of red that coated his lower face and neck had soaked into the light-colored cotton. He wiped at it ineffectually, managing to do little more than spread it around.

"What's he care if you smash your face up some?" Homer asked, suddenly interested. "Or does he only hire pretty boys for the good paying jobs?"

Dex stiffened. "Excuse me?" he asked icily, his hand freezing a few inches from his lips, the now ruined rag clenched in his fist.

"I'm just saying, maybe you're worried if you lose your looks he'll pack you off up here with the rest of the hangdog gang. You know, maybe he won't want to keep you so close by all the time if your face is all fucked up."

"Just what are you implying, Mr. Gates?" he said slowly. As badly as it hurt to talk, there was no way he was going to let a jab like that go by unrecognized. Comments like the one that had just been made were how rumors got started, rumors that they could ill afford to have taken seriously.

"Jesus, Homer, quit being an ass," Tommy interjected, having caught a frightening glimpse of the steel that made up the engineer's core and not wanting to see any more of it revealed.

"I just asked a simple question," Homer insisted. "If he doesn't want to answer it, that's fine with me. Tells me plenty in either case."

"I'll be happy to answer your real question, if you'd like to spit it out," Dex nearly growled back. Skip had never before thought of the man in front of him as a frightening figure, but as he watched him utter that slightly slurred threat from behind his mask of carmine and angry bruises, he shuddered.

The eldest guard, being either incredibly fearless or completely lacking in a sense of self-preservation, continued his taunting. "I'm just wondering what it is you and your boss do when-"

"Homer, get the hell out of here," Skip interrupted him, his lips pursed. He could see the engineer tensing, every muscle in his body tightening as he tried to hold back the urge to beat his provocateur into the ground. It wasn't hard to imagine how the rest of the night would go at this pace; Homer would end up dead, Dex would be led off in handcuffs, and it would take every connection and ounce of charm that Sky Captain possessed to get him back and clear his record. Worst of all, Skip himself would have to fill out more paperwork than he saw even in his nastiest nightmares, on top of having to explain what it was that had driven the engineer into homicidal madness to begin with. No, it was much better to just stop it now.

"You can't-" the older man tried to argue.

"The hell I can't. You might have been here longer, but in case you haven't noticed my name's above yours on the schedule, and has been for months. If I tell you to get the fuck out of here and go home so you can cool off, you better just do it, all right?"

"…Fine," he spat finally. "I'm going. See you boys tomorrow night, maybe. Good luck walking home in the rain, _kid_," he tossed in Dex's direction as he stormed out. A few minutes later an engine roared from the ditch behind the gatehouse. Tires squealing, Homer Gates sped away towards the city, muttering curses about sexual deviants and Communist infiltration as he went.

"What an ass," Tommy broke the silence when the red glow of Gates' taillights had vanished over the hill.

"Just ignore him," Skip said when he saw that Dex hadn't relaxed. "No one listens to him, he's just a sorry sack of shit."

Heaving a sigh that he immediately regretted, the engineer settled back into his chair. _I nearly blew that,_ he realized belatedly. _If I had attacked him, it would have given credence to his accusations. Normally I can just brush people like him off. What the hell's wrong with me tonight? I never react like that. _"Yeah. I'm sorry you guys have to put up with that kind of talk. Is he always like that?"

"Pretty much. We just laugh at him when he's not around to hear us. It's okay."

He shook his head slowly, trying to keep his aching muscles from screaming. "You shouldn't have to deal with someone like that at work. Besides, he doesn't seem very good at this job. If you like, I'll mention his conduct to the Captain. If Mr. Gates is as unhappy here as he looked just now, maybe it's time he found another employer."

Tommy and Skip barely had to glance at one another to know that they were having the same thought. "If you don't mind…" Tommy ventured.

"If it isn't too big of a hassle, I mean, we know you're a busy man…" Skip threw in a little too eagerly.

Dex tried to smile, and ended up flinching. "Leave it to me." He contemplated his now-cool coffee for a few seconds, trying to decide whether he could stand another sip. Just as he was about to give it a try, a bolt of pain flashed through his head, nearly sending him into the cup face-first. "Uhmm…." he moaned slightly.

"Oh, hey, are you okay?" Tommy came forward. "Maybe you should see a doctor about that," he suggested. "I mean…there's a _lot_ of blood on you."

"You could have a concussion, you know," Skip added.

"I just need to go to bed, I think. I'd better head out." He stood up, blinked a few times, and then nearly fell back down. "On second thought, walking might not be such a great idea…"

"One of us could drive you. We've both got cars."

"No, no, there should always be two people on guard. Captain's adamant about that." A thought popped into his aching head. _Joe. _"You guys have a phone up here, right?"

"Yeah. You want us to call you an ambulance or something?"

"Jeez, I didn't think I looked that bad in red," Dex attempted to joke. Seeing the looks on the other two men's faces, he grimaced. "Just call 3257, would you?"

"3257? I don't think that's on our exchange," Skip said doubtfully, looking closely at the phone roster that hung on the wall by the phone. "Are you sure you've got the right number?" _If he took as bad of a hit as it looks like he did, he could be confused. I don't recognize that number, and I thought I knew all of the lines on base._

"It's a private number, but it's on our system," he explained. "I'll take the phone after you dial. I don't want to cause a panic, if you know what I mean."

"Sure. You're the boss." Resisting the urge to call an ambulance regardless of what he'd been told, Skip rang in the requested number and then passed the receiver over, stretching the cord out to reach across the room so the injured man wouldn't have to get up.

"Hey, Cap," Dex said after a few seconds. "I'm at the guardhouse. No. Well, kind of. No…Yeah, I did, but it was just a fender bender. A little. _No,_ Cap, I told you, I'm fine. Just sort of banged up." He paused. "Listen, can you come get me? It's pouring outside, and I really don't think I can - What? Yeah, there are people here. I'll stay here. Yes, I promise. All right, all right. Look, there's really no rush-" He broke off suddenly, a look of exhaustion coming over his face as he pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. "Well, so much for not making him panic. I should have known he'd wait up for me, I told him not to…" He looked up sharply, knowing that he had just said much more than he should have. The other two men looked no more uncomfortable than they had before, however, and for some reason he couldn't explain that fact soothed his worry. "Sorry to keep bugging you," he found himself apologizing. "I'll be out of your hair here in a bit."

"No need to apologize," Skip told him. "Hell, I owed you one anyway, for fixing my car."

"What? Oh, no, hey, anyone would have done that. You can't just drive by someone who's broken down in the middle of the night."

"Most people would have," Skip countered.

"Homer would have," Tommy agreed.

"Well, either way, you don't owe me anything." He shut his eyes tightly for a moment. "You mind if I just put my head down for a minute? Sorry to be a bore, I'm just really tired all of a sudden…"

"I don't think you're supposed to sleep if you might have a concussion. Heard that somewhere," Tommy put forth.

"I won't go to sleep, I'm just going to rest for a minute." He lowered his forehead to his arm as if he simply didn't have the strength to hold it up any longer. "Just, you know, let me know when my ride gets here?"

"Sure thing," Skip conceded, knowing there was nothing they could do if he was determined. The last thing he wanted to do was get him all riled up again like he had been a few minutes before. "Hey Tommy, let's take a walk, huh?" Leaving Dex sitting quietly in his chair, they stepped outside and stood, watching, one facing the base and the other facing the approach road.


	3. Chapter 3

"I could fucking kill Homer for saying what he did," Skip growled, raising the collar of his jacket against the rain. "What a complete bastard that guy is."

"He didn't seem tired until that argument they had. Dex, I mean. He was pissed, I really thought Homer was gonna leave in a body bag."

"Nobody's business who does what with who. Least of all Homer's. Where's that guy get off, saying stuff like that?"

"Yeah." They were silent for several minutes. "Be nice to just be the two of us up here nights again."

"Yeah. Like it was before they stuck us with Gates." Headlights turned onto the far side of the bridge and approached quickly. "Looks like Dex's ride's here."

"You want me to go get him?" Tommy offered.

"No. I want the Captain to see him like he is right now. Maybe if he does he'll take him to a hospital. Can you believe all of that blood he's got on him? If he'd of come stumbling up without us noticing, I might of took him for a zombie and blown his head off."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. The boss should see him that way. I really think he's got a concussion. Guy's a genius, he can't just go around getting knocked in the head and not have a doctor look him over."

"I wish I could have found that first aid kit, cleaned him up some. Or at least a blanket, I think he was still shivering when we came out here. This rain's nasty, and who knows how far he walked in it."

"You tried, Skip."

"Doesn't show to look at him, though, does it?" Their conversation broke off as the sleek car pulled up beside them. It had barely come to a halt when a figure recognizable to everyone in the literate world leapt from the driver's side.

"Is he inside?" Sky Captain asked as he came around the car, his crisp accent overriding the patter of the steady downpour on the pavement.

"Yes, sir."

"…You left him _alone_?" he lectured as he glanced in the window and spotted the man slumped over the table. Before either of the guards could answer he strode past them and inside.

"We're gonna pay for that," Tommy muttered.

"Dex will back us up," Skip consoled him. "Relax. If anyone can talk Sky Captain out of something, I'd bet money on Dex." He felt rather than saw Tommy's questioning look. "Just a feeling I have," he shrugged a little sheepishly. "We'll be fine."

Joe stepped into the guard house, let his eyes adjust to the indoor light, and strode forward. "Dex?" he asked quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Ow…you mind, Cap? That arm's kind of sore."

"Sorry." Squatting down in an attempt to see the injured man's hidden face more clearly, he moved his hand onto his engineer's knee, leaving it there when he heard no protest. "Dex, you're soaking wet. Where's your jacket?"

"…Think I left it in the car."

"How far did you walk in this storm?"

"I don't know, a mile or two. Not far."

"Not far," Joe repeated sarcastically as he pulled his own heavy coat off and draped it over the trembling figure in the chair. "Far enough to catch pneumonia, it looks to me."

"I'm fine, Cap, really. Just need to sleep for a while, and I'll be fine."

_Sleep?_ Sky Captain frowned. Sleep was a far cry from what they'd been planning for when Dex returned from picking up the package he'd been subtly hinting about for weeks. "That's not exactly what we discussed for tonight," he ventured, hoping for an explanation.

"Well, to be honest," came the reply after a long silence, "I kind of thought you might not want to do what we had planned after you saw my new look."

"Your what? What new-" Joe sucked air in quickly between his teeth as Dex raised his head a few inches and turned to look at him. Taking in his crooked nose, the deep bruises under his eyes and across his cheeks, and the rivers of red that had coursed down half of his face, the pilot felt a lump form in his throat. "Dex, my God, what happened to you?"

"A deer decided it wanted to be my hood ornament." He lowered his head slowly back onto his good arm, his desire to just close his eyes growing as he warmed beneath the other man's jacket. _If his hand creeps up just a little bit, I could almost pretend like we're in bed,_ he thought wearily. _Even like this, it'd be so easy to go to sleep…_

"Don't close your eyes, love," he heard a voice order, low and close to his ear. "Not until we get you to a doctor."

"Tired…"

"You've got a concussion. There's no way you avoided one, the way your face looks." He stood up as he spoke, glancing out at the car to judge how far they had to walk. At his words, Dex felt his eyes fill with tears. _So he does think I'm ugly now,_ he bemoaned quietly. _Everything was so perfect, and then that stupid deer had to screw it all up…_ He choked back a sob, hating the idea that Joe might want to go back to being just friends. _We never even got to open the box. It's not fair, damn it._

It took a few seconds for Sky Captain to realize what was going on. "Are you…" He knelt back down on the floor. "Why on earth are you crying? Is the pain bad?" he asked, biting at his lip. _I hate seeing you hurt. Please, please stop crying, you're only going to make it worse if your nose gets stuffed up._ "Listen, we'll go back down to the infirmary and get you some morphine before we go into town, all right? Please, tell me what's wrong. It is the pain, isn't it?"

"I know I look awful, Joe, alright? You don't have to…you know…do this, if you don't want to anymore. I understand. It's okay, I won't leave, you know I couldn't leave you anyway."

The problem struck him as he listened to the man he adored blubbering. _What was I thinking? 'The way your face looks.' You really are a complete ass sometimes, Sullivan, to say such a thing to him when he's like this. "_Dex!" he exclaimed, glancing outside again to make sure that the guards were still far enough from the windows that they wouldn't hear anything from inside. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking before I spoke. We'll get it fixed, I promise. Don't worry about it. You'll be just fine in a few weeks. Besides," he added, levering his lover's swollen, tear- and blood-streaked face up with the utmost care, "you know full well that I would love you more than anything in the world no matter what you looked like. You're still my Dex. All right?" His voice shook slightly as he spoke. _He's completely addled, he knows full well that I can't live without him. But what if he doesn't believe me? If he carries on like this, I'll never get him out of here without those two suspecting something. _

Fortunately the explanation cleared the engineer's head enough for him to realize that he was being foolish. "Yeah," he mumbled painfully. "I know. I'm sorry, I don't know what happened there, I just…God, Joe, I'm so tired…"

"Shh, you're all right," he soothed, standing up again now that the tears had ceased. "Come on, now, we've got to get you to a hospital. Can you stand?"

"Sure thing, Cap," he sighed, gathering what little energy he had left to shove himself up out of his chair. The motion sent another shock through his skull, forcing him to gasp. He cried out as the rush of air through his broken nose caused a network of nerves to scream in agony. He didn't dare open his eyes afterward, knowing that if he did the room would be turning and he would immediately throw up. _And that would __really__ hurt,_ he informed himself, hoping the threat of further pain would quell his twisting stomach. "It wasn't like this earlier," he whined, practically collapsing into the other man's arms.

"You've warmed up since then," Joe told him. "That's why it's worse now. Can you walk?"

"…Maybe?"

He sighed. "All right, come on. We'll get to the car somehow." Bearing most of his slender engineer's weight, Sky Captain got them to the door and wrestled with the handle, attempting to get the door open and keep his partner from sliding to the floor simultaneously. Seeing them trying to exit, Tommy rushed up and held the exit open so that the two could stumble into the semi-darkness around the guardhouse.

"Is he okay?" Skip asked, also coming forward.

"Not really, no," the pilot replied. "Get the car door." The guard nodded and splashed to the sedan ahead of them, opening the passenger door as wide as he could. "Good. Now get inside, the both of you, before you wash away or something."

"You sure you don't need-"

"I've got it, thanks," Joe cut him off brusquely as he swept his semi-unconscious load into his arms. Giving him a subtle squeeze, he set him gently inside of the idling auto. As the door to the guardhouse slammed shut in the background, he pressed a soft kiss against damp hair. "Stay awake, do you hear me?"

"Sure thing, Cap," he heard whispered back groggily.

"Good boy, Dex." He shut the door securely and jogged around to his side, only noticing once he'd seated himself that he was soaked through thanks to his lack of a jacket. "Blasted rain," he cursed, putting the heat on full. Seeing the figure beside him flinch as the fans kicked on, he frowned. "What is it?"

Dex shook his head slightly. "The heat makes it worse," he admitted. "But it's okay." He pulled his left arm close against his stomach and swallowed heavily. "Let's go, huh?"

"Maybe we should go back down to the barracks and wait for an ambulance," Joe suggested a little nervously as he watched him in the filtered light. "At least then we could get you some morphine. I know you're in pain, Dex, I can tell. You can't hide it from me."

"Never could," the engineer smiled slightly. "Just take me to the hospital," he requested, his tight expression returning after a few seconds. "I'd rather ride with you."

"I would come with you in the ambulance. It might be a smoother ride that way."

"They won't let you ride in back. They'll make you sit up front. I don't want you to go away right now."

Sky Captain felt his stomach knot up at that plea for him to stay close. "If that's what you want, love, then I'll take you. It's going to be a long drive, though, with this rain. I promise, it's going to hurt like hell."

"So long as I'm with you, I don't mind."

"So stubborn," he sighed, reaching over and rubbing his leg.

"Gee, wonder who I could have learned that from…"

Laughing, Joe shifted the car into first and pulled forward through the gate that had been raised in anticipation of their departure. "I love you. Don't you ever forget that," he hissed as darkness closed in around the car.

"Love you too, Cap. Always have, always will."


	4. Chapter 4

"Car coming," Tommy said one evening a few weeks later.

"In or out?" Skip asked, not looking up from where he was carefully drawing a line through Homer's name on the next month's schedule. The older man had returned to work the night following Dex's unexpected visit, but a phone call from Sky Captain himself less than five minutes after his arrival had given Skip the authority to fire the useless Gates, much to both of the remaining night guards' delight.

"Out."

"Ten o'clock's kind of late for people to be leaving. Do you recognize the car?"

"No. I'll check them, it's my turn."

"All right." Continuing his ministrations to the roster, Skip kept one ear turned towards the door, listening for any trouble. Several minutes after Tommy stepped out, he came back in, followed by a familiar figure. "Dex! How are you?"

"Better than the last time I saw you," the engineer replied, gently fingering the bandage across his nose that was all save the last vestiges of bruising beneath his eyes and at one temple that showed he'd been in an accident recently.

"You look a lot better," Skip admitted. "Head still hurt?" Details about the extent of his injuries had been on everyone's lips the day after the wreck, and top among the rumors had been concerns that the nasty concussion he had suffered might have negatively affected his brilliant brain. The guards had waited rather uneasily through the several days that Sky Captain had forbidden Dex to return to work before hearing from the overtly relieved mechanics that, while he was still having awful headaches, the chief engineer's genius seemed to have been heightened rather than dimmed by the collision.

"Nah, nothing to speak of really," he shrugged good-naturedly. "The down time was actually kind of nice. I got a lot of work done, just laying around. But don't tell the Captain that," he added with a grin. His smile spread as he recalled the pleasant feeling of having Joe in his bed every night, cuddling and caressing him with a relentless neediness. Sky Captain had retrieved the mystery box from the damaged car before it was towed back to base for repairs, and Dex would never forget the look that had crossed the man's face when he'd opened it and discovered exactly what kind of "toys" had been worth hitting a deer for. They hadn't had the opportunity to use any of them yet – Joe refused to do anything more than tease until he was completely healed – but both were greatly looking forward to doing so.

"Someone said your arm was broken," Tommy's voice broke through his thoughts. "I don't see a cast, though."

"Yeah, it was just a wrenched shoulder. Still a little sore, but it's not holding me up at work, so you won't hear me complaining about it." A honk sounded from the vehicle outside, making them all jump. "Sorry," Dex laughed. "I guess I'm taking longer than he expected me to. I just came in to drop these off," he added, holding out a pair of envelopes that Skip had noticed but not commented on. "Your paychecks. Sorry they weren't here when your shift started, we had to make a little adjustment down at payroll to reflect your promotions."

Both guards' heads whipped up from examining the envelopes they'd been handed. "Our what?" Skip exclaimed. "Dex, you didn't have to do that, really."

"It wasn't all me," the engineer said quickly. "It was the Captain's decision to name you head of perimeter security. We figured you would need a deputy, and that Tommy'd be just about perfect for the job and was probably who you'd pick anyway, so he went ahead and approved that too."

"But…" Skip stammered, "head of perimeter security? You mean…for the whole base?"

"Sure," Dex beamed. "You can do it. We've never had that exact position before, but he said he liked the idea of having someone focused just on the perimeter defense, rather than having you guys report to artillery like you have been. You'll be in charge of the gate guards, the watchtowers, all of that stuff. We've already got feelers out for a couple of new people to train for the night shift, and until we find them you'll still have to pull duty up here, but your raises are retroactive to your last paychecks. You've got an office down in the admin building, too," he finished as the horn outside blew again. "Let me know if you need anything, you know, maps or whatever. Don't look so nervous, guys," he tacked on. "You'll be great, I know it." Raising a hand in goodbye, he left the guardhouse and trotted back to the car sitting before the gate.

"Promotions," Skip breathed.

"Our own office," Tommy added.

"'Head of Perimeter Security,'" Skip tried out, his eyes dancing. "Sounds pretty damn good, doesn't it?"

"I'll say it does. I knew Homer was wrong about that guy."

"Yeah, Dex is all right." He broke the seal on his envelope as he spoke, and then gaped down at the money inside. "Tommy."

"Yeah?"

"There's at least double our normal paycheck in here."

Tommy tore his open quickly. "Holy shit. I think you're right."

Skip beamed. "There's only one way this evening could get any better."

"How so?"

"I wish Homer was here to see this. Can you imagine what he would say?"

The two laughed so hard at the thought of their former co-worker watching them get huge promotions that tears of mirth rolled down their cheeks before they settled and began to talk seriously about their new posts.

"Get your message delivered then, Dex?" Joe asked as his chief engineer slipped back into the car.

"Yup. I think they'll be perfect for it."

"I know you do. That's why I agreed to it." He glanced over at the other man and quickly read his bashful smile. "You did tell them that it was your idea, didn't you?"

"I told them it was your decision. You had veto power after all, Cap."

"Yes, but we both know that I never use it with you. I've never had reason to. Your ideas are always worth carrying out."

"They don't need to know that," he answered back. "You're the head of the Legion, you're the boss. Telling them something like that might lessen the power that you represent in their minds. Besides," he went on, "with new responsibilities and higher pay, they won't have as much time to think about anything they may have overheard the other night." _Although, _he thought without saying, _I don't think they would say anything even if they flat-out knew about us._ He didn't know why he felt as certain of that fact as he did, but it calmed him nonetheless in the same way it had the night of his accident.

"Sometimes I wonder if I really deserve to be in charge," Sky Captain pondered, staring at his lover. "Sometimes I think you'd be much better at it than I am."

"Don't be ridiculous," Dex replied confidently. "I don't have the right attitude for it. The head of the Legion has to be a bona fide hero, someone people the world over can swoon thinking about. Someone like you. Besides," he went on, his voice dropping into a sensual murmur, "I _like_ being beneath you."

Joe gulped at those words. "Uh…Dex?"

"Yeah, Cap?"

"How do you feel?"

"Pretty good, actually. And I have a bottle of pills in my pocket for if I start feeling less than up to par. Why," he practically purred, "did you have something in mind?"

_Let's just skip the movie and get a hotel room, shall we?_ he wanted to ask. Only the fear that he might hurt his partner if they went too far too soon after his injuries held the question behind his lips. He glanced desperately over, hoping the engineer would say something to break his indecision.

Dex could see the war in Sky Captain's eyes as easily as he could see the bulge that had formed in the man's pants. Smile turning lecherous, he caught his gaze and divulged the secret he'd been keeping for the last hour. "The box is in the trunk."

Joe stare widened, a soft moan escaping him. "Good boy, Dex."

He settled back in his seat and placed his hand where it could be inconspicuously reached from the driver's seat. "No problem, Cap." Warm fingers covered his own. "You can thank me later."

"Oh, I will, Dex. I will." Images of what he intended to do to the man beside him that night racing through his head, he sped away from the gate and towards the city.


End file.
